An English Girl Returns To Shreveport
by Flamink
Summary: Finally back in Shreveport, Evelyn discovers that some things can follow you anywhere. Eric/OC & Bill/OC
1. Hospital Visit

**Hospital Visit**

"…First believed to be committed by a number of anti-socialist vampires, new intelligence suggests that a radical extremist human group are behind the attack on the author, who is still recovering from her injuries in hospital."

The newscaster's voice went straight through me. It was one of those noises that squeaked and irritated my ear drums, not least for the stupid words she was saying. When I'd been brought in, they'd speculated that vampires had attacked me, to send a message not to masquerade as one of them. What the detectives and hospital staff were just discovering, that it was actually my own race that put me in my current predicament, would only make it more difficult to convince them I was alright to be released from their care.

Sitting upright in the ugly motorised bed, I flicked absently through the channels, but ended up returning to the pretty brunette discussing my plight on the ten o clock news.

"The BVL has commented on the attack, condemning the actions of the Extremist group as brutal and unnecessary." She cut to a pre-recorded interview with the British Vampire Leagues' equivalent to Nan Flanagan, Nicolas Hunter. Nicolas was a classically beautiful man, who I'm quite sure could've been a male model if he so chose. Though I barely noticed his accent, his voice was smooth and welcoming, inviting you to trust him. He had a way about him, a charm which made him so perfect for the role.

"Whilst Ms Winters may have used the façade of being a vampire to help promote her books, it is in no way an excuse for anyone, vampire or human alike, to attack her in such a brutal way. We at the BVL are working with our colleagues in the States, to help bring the perpetrators to justice over this matter. The British public must make a stand against these hate crimes."

The newscaster fluttered her eyelashes on the tape, and you could almost hear her uncrossing her legs for the aptly named Mr Hunter, "So are you saying Nicolas, that the vampires of Britain will not accept a sympathiser being treated in this way?"

"Angela, we both know no government should accept this kind of treatment of its public, whatever their persuasion." He flashed her a smile that could get him into her most intimate of places.

She blushed as the camera cut to her and she fiddled with her papers on her knee, searching for an appropriate follow-up question, "Are we to expect a retaliation from the vampires then?"

"Again, I think everyone is aware that we are much cleverer than that," he smiled directly into the lens as the camera cut quickly back to him. The comment made me wonder if everyone had read between the lines as I had done, Nicolas simply meant that there would be a retaliation, just not one that the news would hear about.

Angela persisted, "So where does the BVL stand on the Extremist group? Is this group linked at all to Steve Newlin's Fellowship?"

"The BVL is investigating the matter and what I can tell you at this stage is that we have discovered the radical group appears to be targeting high profile British vampire sympathisers. I can confirm we do believe the Fellowship of the Sun to be behind these ghastly attacks."

"Attacks? There have been more?" Angela perked up on hearing his words, playing right into Nicolas' hands. Maybe I'd been around vampires too much and was beginning to pick up on the way they manipulated us mere humans, or maybe I was just becoming weary of all this attention but I could see how Nicolas was diverting the newscaster and therefore the public, into believing every word he said was true.

Nicolas pressed a transceiver in his ear and frowned, on cue, "Angela, I cannot confirm nor deny anything at this stage. I am afraid I must deal with an urgent matter. I look forward to speaking with you again. Soon."

The way he added the word made the newscaster swoon for him, and a million of her viewers too. I snatched the remote and turned it off as she cut to the Sport report.

Glancing at the clock, I gave it a couple of minutes before I flicked off the nightlight and pretended to be asleep. A further few minutes later, the charge nurse made her rounds, coming into my private room, checking my chart and that I was still in bed and going on her merry way. I waited a few moments more to be extra sure she had made her way up the corridor, then slipped quietly out of bed and into a pair of waiting Crocs underneath. I grabbed my robe from the chair and limped over to the window, slipping it on as I went.

Even after three weeks recuperating, my leg still ached and my side still hurt, despite the painkillers I was on. But I was lucky, I could still walk, even if it was a struggle. The silver bullet which had gone through the flesh of my thigh had thankfully not done too much damage and they had been able to remove it without much trouble. The arrow that had penetrated my side had, in the Doctors' words, 'Unfortunately just caught your lung, causing it to collapse partially'. For the most part what he'd told me had gone in one ear and straight out the other. What I did know was that I was on my way to a full recovery, and 'was a very lucky girl'.

I can honestly say that I didn't feel it, and as I struggled to quietly hitch up the window so I could sneak outside, I felt the tug on my stitches and eased my efforts. Eventually I managed to open the window enough so I could perch on the edge and swing my legs through and slide down outside into the bushes below. I secured my secret pack of cigarettes, which I'd managed to convince an errant student doctor to procure for me, and a lighter from the hiding place I'd made, in a brown paper bag under a rock beside a bush near the window, and hobbled along the paths to the seating area outside.

I dropped myself heavily onto one of the wooden benches, sitting directly beneath a street lamp in the grounds. They had made quite a good job of planting this area so it would not seem so hospital-like, and was a breath of fresh air compared to the sterile, white hallways and barren rooms.

No sooner had I lit a cigarette did the air beside me move gently causing a breeze. I glanced upward to find him floating neatly down alongside me to take a seat. "That is not good for you," said Eric.

I rolled my eyes at him and took a deep drag, "Neither are you, but I don't much fancy quitting that either." I winked at him as I inhaled, but immediately wished I hadn't as the large intake of breath and smoke made me cough as it reached my injured lung.

Eric crossed one leg over the other, leaning back on the bench and shook his head, "I wish you would take my blood."

"Do you not think people are asking enough questions?" I replied sardonically, "I can see the headlines now, _'Brutally attacked author makes miraculous complete recovery'_."

Eric gave me a small smile, "Perhaps you make a valid point."

"Hmm," I agreed, aiming to change the ever sore subject of accepting his offer, "You get your business sorted out?"

Eric had been MIA for a while, but I'd received word from Bill a week into my hospital stay, that Eric would be in touch with me in due course. The pair of them had had to return to their duties a couple of days after the incident at the warehouse, and I'd been left under Police guard on the ward until only a few days ago. Not that they would have stood much of a chance against Lauren and her vampire posse, but against the Extremists, the odds were a little better.

The warehouse incident had been played down considerably in the news, the press solely focusing on the attack on me as their main story. Although the hype had begun to die down now, I feared that this fresh information on the news tonight would relight interest and I would be unable to return to Shreveport.

"I did, for now" he replied cryptically. He'd still not told me what he was doing of late but he'd been dropping by every now and then, checking in with me sporting windswept hair and a roguish grin. I'd still not told him about my liaison with Bill, and I was pretty sure he didn't have an idea what I'd done, pretty sure.

"Did your parents visit you?" Eric asked.

I smiled, and took another, shallower drag, "Yeah, they did. They're ok, same old," I paused, not wanting to linger on the pained parental visit, which had been full of unasked questions and a massive elephant present throughout their entire stay, "Guess who visited today?" I said redirecting the subject matter again.

Eric looked at me, a small smirk began to creep across his lips, "Who?"

"Margaret Levine."

"Your editor?"

"Yep, she was asking after the handsome blonde gentleman that was with me when we first met," I replied, "I told her I didn't know who she was talking about."

Eric's hand moved and rested on my knee, "Sounds like you may have hit your head harder than you thought," he paused, contemplating a smirk, "I'd get that looked at." I laughed and nudged him with my shoulder.

"How's Bill doing?" I said, "He's not called in a week."

Eric rolled his eyes, and leant forward, elbows rested on his knees, "I'm sure he's doing just fine."

"He said something about the Sheriff in Bon Temps asking him about Sookie going missing?" I ignored Eric's dismissal, but the mention of the prized waitress' name was enough to render him silent. I kicked my heels on the floor and made attempts to finish my rapidly burning out cigarette whilst the awkward silence passed.

I lazily flicked the stub to the ground and took a laboured breath, my lung pressing against my ribs making me wince with the pain, "The doctor says I'm good to go this weekend." I still ached all over but they'd said I didn't need to stay in the hospital anymore and just needed to rest and recuperate.

"Well, that is good news," Eric said flatly, clearly thinking about something else.

I shrugged, "Yeah, another month in this place is not what I need right now."

"Hmm," Eric agreed absently.

"He also said my blood work had come back at last," Eric cocked his head, interest piqued, "…and I'm not a carrier of Hep D."

Eric smiled again, genuinely and I felt a rush of warmth at the sight of it, "Now, that _is_ good news."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Though quite why they tested me I don't know, they said they do it as a matter of course with Vampire attacks."

"You and I both know you weren't attacked by Vampires."

"What was I meant to tell them Eric? That I'd accidently fallen on a friends' fangs? Repeatedly?" I answered, "To be honest I'm surprised they even noticed the bite marks after the way you yanked my arm from Bill, you made a right mess."

"We don't want him getting greedy," Eric grinned, and I could do nothing but roll my eyes at his impertinence, "Especially not now I'm back to normal," he added with a wink and I couldn't suppress the smile that spread across my face. His arrogance meant that he was clear of the virus which had kept him from his full strength. Although a mere month ago, he had drained a human. The dramatic memory of which was firmly etched into my brain, in all its gory detail, and I figured that probably had something to do with this quicker recovery.

"Okay then. I'd best get back in bed before the Matron notices I'm gone," I said as I made a dodgy attempt to put my weight on my leg, then decided it'd be better to switch to the other one.

"Here, I got you," Eric whisked me up in his arms before I had chance to protest, and before I knew it I was perching on the windowsill to my room, wondering if I should invite Eric in or not.

The words were on the tip of my tongue when he spoke, "I won't come in," he said, "The light in these places washes me out."

I stared at him for a minute, wondering what on earth I'd done to deserve this chivalrous treatment when the unpleasant truth was that I'd done just the opposite. The street lamps caught on his brow, highlighting him from behind angelically, I reached out and touched his cheek instinctively, intimately. His hand came to rest against mine and his eyes caught my gaze. Remorse overcame me in an instant, rushing like a stream breaking its bank. I should tell Eric the truth, in the end he would find out anyway, I should just be honest with him now. I couldn't.

I closed my eyes tightly and sighed, "Remember when it was easier?" I said in barely a whisper, I knew Eric would hear me. He stepped closer, wrapping my legs around him, stroking my thigh gently over my bandage.

"I remember when you would close your eyes so I wouldn't glamour you," he murmured in return. His words brought a smile to my face recalling the memory, I chuckled.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly. At these words though, my lids opened briskly, I breathed in sharply sending a jolt of pain through my ribs causing me to loose balance on the sill. I reared backward, but Eric caught my weight.

"Evie?" I looked up into his face as we hovered mere inches from the floor, "What is it?"

What could I tell him? That the words he'd spoken had inadvertently reminded me of the very thing I was tying to forget? I shook my head ruefully.

Eric's lips cocked in a sideways smile. Knowing that I couldn't talk to him, wouldn't, he didn't push me for an answer, instead he let us float gently to the cold sterile floor of the hospital room a foot from the bed. He rolled to my side so as not to put his weight on me and rested his head on his hand.

"Ms Flanagan has asked to speak with you," he said quietly.

A sensation of dread flooded my being, "Oh no, I don't think so."

"Evelyn, she is the AVL representative."

"I know who she is Eric, I just don't wanna talk to any more reporters."

He fell quiet, as if he were re-planning something, "Very well." Moments later he sat upright, "Someone is coming." Quicker than I could think, Eric had picked me from the floor and put me into bed.

The door handle creaked and a crack of light crept through the gap. The charge nurse's head poked through, "Everything okay in here Ms Winters?"

I faked being half asleep, "Hey…yeah, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I thought I heard voices."

I pushed myself to sit upright in the bed, "Nope."

The older woman frowned, unconvinced, "Well, alright then, you get your rest now."

Eric stood from a crouch beside the bed as soon as the door catch shut to, he perched on the edge of the mattress.

"She's right, you should rest," his fingers tucked a wayward lock of hair behind my ear.

"I've had enough bed rest to last me a lifetime," I replied.

"Well, when you get out of here, I can think of some other things to do in bed," he leaned in and planted a kiss squarely on my lips, catching me momentarily off guard.

He pulled away, leaving me wanting, with a wink and slight nod of his head and then he was gone. I slipped down under the covers, my tummy doing a little flip as I closed my eyes. I drifted off with a smile on my face.

And out of bed, I thought.


	2. Welcome Home

**Welcome Home**

Shreveport had felt a million miles away when I'd been in England, but now I was back I was having all manner of doubts. Night had dropped whilst on the way back from the airport, and I had an eerie sense of foreboding at returning home after so long away. The cab that had dropped me off waited patiently at the kerb whilst I sought out some payment for him, but lingered around afterwards which set me on edge slightly. I'd expected to see the Dodge in the driveway but in its place was the red Ford Mustang that Bill had taken me to Merlotte's in amidst his meetings and appointments. I noted it to be odd, but didn't pay too much attention to it. I was far more concerned with stepping foot in my home again having spent nearly three months away.

I glanced across the gardens to Mrs Wilson's house. There were no lights on and I wondered if she were at home. Could I procrastinate further and go visit her? I sighed, no I could not. The cab that had dropped me off disappeared down the street and left me standing alone afraid to open my front door. I hadn't been back since the night Stephan had taken me.

I gulped away my doubts, reached out my key and was about to turn the handle when the scattered dry leaves on the porch rustled oddly. I left the key in the lock, and swirled around, immediately suspicious. I scoured the street, the front garden, the driveway and eyed the leaves viciously, accusingly. Eventually content I was alone, I sighed at my own stupidity.

I turned to reach the door handle, "Holy fuck!" I exclaimed, far too loudly for this time of night.

Eric stood squarely in front of the door, "Not the welcome I'd expected, but it will do," he smiled devilishly.

"Jesus, Eric. You don't think I've enough to deal with, without you creeping up on me?" I turned the handle without a second thought, his presence, though alarming, was comforting at the same time. And I reasoned, probably why he'd come.

"You like it really," he uttered, leaning in the doorway. I dumped my bags behind the couch and surveyed the hallway. It was as I remembered it, only tidier, and cleaner. I guessed Bill must have had a cleaning firm in.

I glanced at the Viking, "Remind me, are you in or out?"

"Why don't you come over here and find out?" he stared at me, undressing me with his eyes.

"I'm not playing your games Eric, just come in," I frowned at him. Invitation made.

Eric rolled his eyes, but shut the door behind him as he followed me into the kitchen. On the centre of the table were a set of car keys and a note. 'To replace the bad memories. X'

I picked them up and jingled them at him, "Now, that's a welcome home gift. I don't see yours?"

"Standing right in front of you."

I sighed at his persistence, a little agitated. I was tired, and my side was beginning to ache again, reminding me of my injury, "Really? We're doing…" I flapped my hand at him, "…This. Now?"

Eric just raised his eyebrow seductively in response. I shook my head dismissively and opened the refrigerator to survey the state of the grocery situation.

I struck lucky when I found it had been cleaned out, save for a Diet Coke can and a couple of bottles of Tru Blood. I grabbed one out and tossed it toward Eric. He caught it inches from the floor, not letting it break on the tiles, even though he had no intention of drinking it, but humoured me whilst I found the Jack Daniels in the cupboard.

"You know, Pam's put some new cocktails on the menu at Fangtasia," he said, turning the bottle around in his hand. I poured out the liquor for myself in a glass and topped it up with the coke, "Oh yeah?"

"You'd like a V Shooter," he said just as I knocked back the glass. It made me choke a little, wondering if he was hinting at the still yet-to-be-discussed issue of the vial of blood which had rolled out onto the train platform in London.

"Maybe I'll stop by and try one," I replied, becoming wary of the direction the conversation was taking.

"You should." He glared at me seductively with his alluring gaze.

I shook my head and poured out another glass, then flicked through my mail as Eric fell silent, "The book is selling well," I told him, opening a more recent confirmation letter of an email from my publisher, "I guess being attacked by the very thing you're writing about sells copies, oh great…" I trailed off.

"What is it?" Eric asked, breaking his staring contest at me

"They want another Bio writing….Hey, maybe I could just pen Pam's story," I said lightly, stuffing the letter back into its envelope and returning it to the pile. I'd check the rest, and my emails, later. I took a sip of my drink and looked up. Eric's eyes had darkened tellingly, and he rounded the table as he spoke, "I wouldn't hold your breath." He advanced on me at vamp speed as if I were prey, my stomach jumped into my throat and my chest tightened as he appeared in front of me. His words had a double meaning. His actions, however, were as clear as day.

"I'm not," I lied, and breathed in sharply as he towered over me.

Eric's hand brushed across my face gently and he pushed, pinning me to the kitchen cupboards, "Yes you are," he whispered.

"Eric…" I moaned in protest, but my head rolled back automatically, offering him my neck. My chest heaved and I could feel my blood surging through my veins. His fingers wound their way into my hair, and cradled my head as his lips grazed my throat tantalisingly. His touch was exquisite, rolling my head in his grasp as he licked and caressed my neck, teasing me and taunting me with the promise and threat of his bite. He'd not fed from me in what seemed like an age, the virus had prevented him. The tension began to overwhelm me, I tried in vain to tighten my grip on the empty glass I was holding, but instead it slipped from my fingers and fell to the floor, smashing into pieces.

Eric reared backward, his head tilted down, looking upon me with glazed lustful eyes. He grunted as his fangs slid out. I gazed back at him, my breathing heavy but controlled. I was no longer concerned about his fangs, something inside me washed with warmth at the sight of them and it was a welcome sensation and won hands down over the dread I'd felt before. We stood staring at each other, neither making the first move, both judging the other, anticipating the action. I was first to relent, I didn't have Eric's self control, his innate ability to prolong the seduction process. I held out my hand.

Eric snatched it and yanked me to his chest, holding my back to him. His free hand travelled down my front and between my thighs. He massaged through the fabric expertly, roughly bringing me moments from a climax. I craned my head, giving him his enticement. His teeth ripped into the flesh ferociously, all the pent up frustrations finally released as he did what we'd both wanted for what felt like an eternity. I came. My free arm wrapped around his head, holding him tightly as I felt the wetness seeping down my neck.

Suddenly, distracting us both with a hint of déjà-vu, there was a poorly timed knock at the door. Eric withdrew his fangs and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to rip that door off its fucking hinges."

I turned and smiled at him, "Know who it is?" He shook his head and I couldn't tell if it was in dismay at the visitor or if he didn't know them. Either way, he didn't indicate a threat.

Glowing in the aftermath of my climax, I trotted over to the door and peeked my head around as it opened, not wanting to cause a possible Mrs Wilson alarm at the sight of my bleeding neck.

"Welcome home, Evelyn," said King Bill. He looked good, really good. Hair styled to perfection and dressed in a well tailored Armani suit, he stood proudly on my porch with the regal air of a monarch.

"Hey!" I said moderately surprised at his arrival, though conveniently timed.

_Oh crap_. The thought dawned that they were both here.

His brow furrowed and his face turned serious, "Are you alright Evelyn?"

I laughed nervously, "Yeah, I'm fine."

He shifted from foot to foot, "I can smell your blood."

My stomach dropped, and I stood out fully from behind the door, "Don't worry, it's Eric," Bill's eyebrow raised, "Hey! Don't look at me like that, you're the one that's cockblocked him," I smiled uneasily, "Come inside."

Bill stepped over the threshold and I closed the door behind him, "So I see you're feeling better," he commented.

I chuckled oddly, ignoring his observation as we entered the kitchen.

Eric nodded his head, "King Bill," he greeted him, conceitedly licking his lips.

"Eric," Bill replied coolly, not allowing him the pleasantries of being called Sheriff.

They fell silent and stood burning gazes at each other for what felt like an hour. I rolled my eyes and went to the sink to use a damp paper towel to remove the blood from my neck.

"What do you think you're doing?" Eric's hand gripped my wrist, surprising me. I shot him a steely look, I didn't want embarrassing, especially not in front of Bill, especially not now. But in the blink of an eye, Eric spun me around into his arms, holding me like he had before. His tongue lapped at my neck, wiping it clean. Apparently I didn't have a choice in the matter. My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

Bill cleared his throat and Eric released me, content with the tension he had created in the room. All words left me as we stood there, all three as quiet as mice. Why was this so awkward? Because Bill had interrupted Eric feeding from me? Because Eric was rubbing it in his face? Because Bill knew something that Eric didn't? Because it was Bill that had taught me how to deal with fangs again? Because I had fucked Bill?

I busied myself, as my mind did somersaults, with finding the dustpan and brush from the cupboard under the sink and sweeping up the remains of the broken glass from the floor. I dropped the fragments into the trash and returned the pan to the cupboard. All the while neither Bill nor Eric spoke, they just watched me and one another cautiously.

Finally unable to prolong my task further, I spoke, "Thank you for the car, Bill, but you really didn't have to," I said, shaking my head.

Bill smiled, pleased he'd been addressed before Eric, "You are more than welcome, Evelyn, you know that."

I blushed, "Well, thanks all the same."

We fell into strained silence again, giving me cause to wonder why they both had decided to welcome me back tonight. The penny dropped. "Is there something you two aren't telling me?" I made a face consistent with tone in my voice, solemn. Bill and Eric exchanged a suspicious glance, "Right come on, out with it. What's going on?"

I expected Bill to speak and explain himself, but it was Eric's voice that I heard, "She's followed you here."

"What?" I spat, seeing red, "Why?"

"She obviously needs you for something Evelyn," Bill began, "I have yet to discover what, but with the publicity surrounding you it stands to reason that her motives are still pretty much the same as they were in England."

I crossed my arms and leant back against the sink, "You do realise neither of you have tried to explain why she looks like me, or the other way round?"

The vampires exchanged another sideways glance, thinking I'd not noticed them as I poured myself another drink.

"I swear to god, if you tell me Lauren is my ancestor or something I'm gonna scream a fit."

"Not exactly…" Eric replied.

I carried on… "Because this whole thing is getting a little too 'Vampire Diaries' for me. I mean the guys names are nearly the bloody same, how'd that even happen?" I'd been watching some shows that the publishing house recommended I look into on the return flight home. I'd reluctantly put them in my laptop but actually found them to be quite a good watch. Apparently there were some books I should read too.

Bill spoke this time, "I do not know of many vampires who keep a journal Evelyn."

I rolled my eyes and knocked back the JD.

"At some point, she's killed one of your kin," Eric explained, "That's why she can take your form."

"She has looked like you for as long as I can remember," Bill added. I chose to scoot around this topic, well aware that the visual of Bill having sex with me, prior to me having sex with him was truly bizarre.

"So I'm not related to her?" I asked carefully.

They both shook their heads, a resounding no.

"Thank god for that."

"But the rules do seem to be different, I have never come across a shifter with abilities like this, let alone a vampire," Eric told us.

"Excuse me," I said before Bill got chance to agree with Eric, "Does one of you want to fill me in here?"

"What's a shifter?"


End file.
